


Suspicious Pizza

by Pouler (poulerslashes)



Series: Drabbles and Shorts [4]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-10
Updated: 2015-01-10
Packaged: 2018-03-06 23:23:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3152159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poulerslashes/pseuds/Pouler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daichi felt his heart skip a beat. Was this it? Was this the moment?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Suspicious Pizza

After practice that Saturday on the walk home, Daichi steeled his courage and said, “Hey, Suga.”

Suga turned toward him, his face as open as always, and Daichi nearly lost his nerve. “Hey, what?”

"So, uh." Daichi looked straight ahead. "My parents are out of town this weekend," he said in a manner he hoped came off as casual. "I thought maybe you’d like to come over tonight, hang out?"

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Suga give him a sly, sidelong look. Daichi looked at the ground and felt his ears heat. Ugh. Why was this so hard? Why was he so nervous?

"We’ve got that calc test on Tuesday," Suga said, "we should probably study a little anyway."

"Y-yeah," Daichi agreed. "Sounds good."

They made a plan. Suga would run home and shower, pick up a few things for the night, and then come over. That gave Daichi at least an hour or two to make sure everything was ready.

At home, he walked anxiously from room to room. Should he clean up more? Or  _less_? In a fit of tension the night before he’d cleaned his entire room, but now he wondered if that might come across as too much – maybe he’d drape a sweatshirt haphazardly across the computer chair, make everything a little more lived in, so it didn’t look quite so much like he had planned the evening. For dinner, they’d keep it simple. Regular stuff, maybe they’d order pizza. That was pretty typical, right? Nothing suspicious about pizza.

To work off the extra nerves, Daichi did as many push-ups as he could manage in fifteen minutes, which helped a little and still gave him enough time to shower before Suga came by. It wouldn’t do very well for him to execute his plan while he was still covered in grime from practice.

Suga showed up around four. He was wearing a thin gray V-necked sweater with no undershirt. As he passed through the house, Daichi’s eyes flicked to peek at his chest before he managed to catch himself. Suga seemed not to notice, at least.

"Study first?" Suga said as he dumped his bag next to the dining room table.

"Sure," Daichi agreed. He fisted his hands at his sides to keep himself from touching that soft-looking sweater. He’d waited this long. He could wait a few more hours. "Tea?"  
  
"Sure, sounds great." Suga leaned over to pull his books out of his bag, and his fine hair fell forward across his cheekbones. Daichi inhaled sharply and went to make the tea.

They studied for a good while, until Daichi thought his eyes would cross if he had to do another trig substitution. He flopped forward onto the table with a loud groan. “No more,” he said. “I can’t do anymore.”

Suga laughed lightly. He patted Daichi’s hand. “You’re worse than our dear underclassmen.”

"That’s too harsh, Suga," Daichi mumbled into the tabletop.

"Maybe," Suga conceded. His hand was still on Daichi’s, long slender fingers curling around Daichi’s wrist. He didn’t seem to be in a great hurry to let go.

Daichi raised his head. He chanced a glance across the table. Suga was still focused on his notes, his pen scratching quietly. His thumb stroked downward along the inside of Daichi’s wrist, light and warm. Daichi felt his heart skip a beat. Was this it? Was this the moment?

"Are you hungry?" he asked abruptly, wanting to kick himself as soon as the words were out of his mouth.

Suga blinked at him and released his wrist. “Sure, I guess so.”

"I’ll go order the pizza," Daichi said as he stood up. Suga looked at him quizzically, but didn’t argue. In the kitchen, out of Suga’s line of sight, Daichi hit his head three times against the fridge in frustration.

"Everything okay in there?" Suga called from the dining room.

"Yes!" Daichi called back, and he reached for the phone.

They put their schoolwork away when the pizza came. Daichi turned on the tv and put on a soccer game that he didn’t pay very much attention to. He kept looking at Suga’s hands, the way Suga picked off all the toppings and ate them one at a time, before folding his slice of pizza in half and eating it that way. The wide neck of his sweater had shifted slightly to the side, exposing one sharp clavicle. Daichi couldn’t stop glancing at that pale expanse of skin. He picked at his own plate.

When the pizza was eaten, empty plates set aside, Suga settled in close to Daichi’s side on the couch, so close their arms touched between them. Daichi was wearing a t-shirt, and the knit of Suga’s sweater felt warm against the outside of his upper arm. He crossed his arms awkwardly, looked at Suga’s leg next to his own. They watched the game in companionable silence for a while, until Daichi couldn’t stand it anymore. He gave into the temptation and reached out with his hand to touch the arm of Suga’s sweater. He pinched the knit, rolled it between his fingers. It was just as soft as it looked.

Suga turned toward him on the couch. Daichi would never be able to describe what his face looked like in that moment, but he would also never forget it – his eyes half-lidded, his expression open and lovely, his lips slightly curved into a little smile. “Daichi,” Suga said quietly, and the sound of his name in that tone of voice made Daichi panic a little.

"Do you want to watch a movie?" Daichi heard himself ask. It was almost like he was witnessing the scene from outside his body, and he wanted to throttle himself. What the hell was he talking about? A  _movie_? Who cared about a movie right now?

"No," Suga said. "I don’t." He moved forward and Daichi abruptly moved back until he hit the arm of the couch. He braced a foot on the floor and grabbed the back of the couch to keep from tumbling unceremoniously off of it.

"Daichi," Suga said again. He sidled right into Daichi’s personal space, up between his open legs, and put his hands on Daichi’s sides. "What are you so nervous about?"

It was a valid question. Daichi had fantasized this moment many times. How Suga would look at him (no comparison to the face before him now), what he would smell like (shampoo and his deodorant – a sweet, musky scent). “I think,” Daichi said quietly, “I think that I worried I imagined the whole thing.”

"You imagined what?"

"This. What’s going on between us." They’d never outwardly acknowledged it, only danced around it, a game of sideways glances and fleeting touches.

"And what’s going on between us, Sawamura-kun?"

Daichi had decided to put an end to that game tonight. Wasn’t that the whole point of planning the evening? “I really, really like you, Suga,” he said sternly. “And I think you like me too.”

Suga laughed softly. He was so close that Daichi felt the puff of air against his skin. “You don’t have to say it like that, Daichi,” he said. He closed the gap between them and kissed Daichi firmly. Daichi wrapped his arms around Suga’s shoulders and put a hand into his sleek hair.

"I guess I didn’t imagine it then," Daichi said when they came apart some time later.

Suga rolled his eyes and pinched Daichi’s side hard.

"Hey!" Daichi protested, but Suga swallowed up the rest of his objections.


End file.
